a new life
by belle parole
Summary: "Who —?" Harry asked, looking down. The person was male, with shaggy black hair in a tangled mess. Through the mist of the cave, Harry could see the person's sharp green eyes as well. "Where's Sirius, James? I need to see Sirius. Sirius —" [for emy]


_for emy, via gge and because i told you about this ages ago. happy early birthday ~_

 _1508 words, by gdocs_

* * *

 _There was fire in a red ring around them. Inferi were being burned second by second. Something shot up into the air, higher than all of the Inferi, flailing. Harry raised his wand to strike it down, but it was moving too fast and he was tired, so tired…_

 _The thing landed at his feet, shuddering and gasping. It was a human body, but this one seemed more lifelike — it was moving fluidly, unlike the zombies surrounding them._

" _Don't — don't —" the person gasped, holding up a hand as Harry aimed his wand. "James?" he gasped finally, shaking his head._

" _Who —?" Harry asked, looking down. The person was male, with shaggy black hair in a tangled mess. Through the mist of the cave, Harry could see the person's sharp green eyes as well._

" _Where's Sirius, James? I need to see Sirius. Sirius —"_

 _A shard of ice went through Harry's heart at the mention of Sirius. And this man thought he was his father?_

" _I'm Harry, not James," he said. The fire around them died down and Harry remembered where they were — he needed to go back to Dumbledore._

" _Harry?" the man said, sounded perplexed. "James, what —?"_

" _You'd better come with me," Harry said, leading the way back to Dumbledore._

…

Dumbledore is dead and Regulus is shaking. He's either shaking from the fact that he's been frozen in a lake for the past twenty or so years or from the fact that _Dumbledore is dead_.

The Dark Lord is stronger than Regulus thought.

"Explain this to me again," Harry demands. Harry. It's weird to think of him as Harry; he looks so much like James, who Sirius spent every waking moment with. Speaking of, Harry still won't tell Regulus _where Sirius is_ , which is making him almost sick.

"The lake preserves everything in it. It's how the Dark Lord keeps all of the Inferi. I suppose it preserved me, too," Regulus says, through gritted teeth. They're in the Gryffindor common room, Harry pacing in front of him. Regulus has to admit, they have a better common room than what he remembers of the Slytherin one. It's definitely redder — red drapes over the couches and the walls. Even the little fire blazing is a bright red.

It's getting a little bit frustrating for Regulus to repeat himself over and over again. The truth is that he just _doesn't know_ why he's still alive. He didn't make the choice to be trapped in a lake for eighteen years.

"Don't call him 'the Dark Lord,'" Harry tells Regulus.

"Where's Sirius?" Regulus asks again, ignoring Harry's remark. That's his first concern. He's screwed up so much. All he wants to do is _apologise_ to Sirius. Harry bites his lip, making Regulus' stomach clench.

"How much do you know about what Voldemort is planning?" Harry asks instead, avoiding Regulus' question. Regulus flinches at the blatant use of the Dark Lord's name. Who _does_ that?

"I've been trapped in a lake for the past twenty years," Regulus snaps. "I don't know. Where. Is. Sirius?"

Harry looks up at the ceiling for a moment and Regulus follows his gaze. There's a glass dome, showing a view the night sky. It's a bitter feeling — the sky is glittering with hundreds of stars, a lot visible through the dome. It should be dark; Dumbledore isn't there to light them anymore.

They should be mourning Dumbledore, not planning for a war.

"Sirius is dead."

There's a silence for a moment, and then two, and then it hits Regulus.

"What?" he asks, blinking hard. That can't be right. Sirius can't be —

Sirius wouldn't _let_ Death take him. He _wouldn't_.

"I'm sorry," Harry says through gritted teeth. Regulus doesn't respond, instead pursing his lips together in a tight line. He's too late and Sirius is dead and he probably died thinking that Regulus was a Death Eater…

 _Well_ , Regulus reminds himself as his arm tingles a bit, _you_ are _a Death Eater. He had a right to think that._

"What is Dumbledore planning?" Regulus asks, biting his tongue and forcing down his pain. There's a war going on. He has every intention to fight in it.

Sirius would've wanted him to.

Harry shoots him a withering look, one that pierces Regulus.

"How do I know if I can even trust you?" he asks. _It's a good point_ , Regulus will admit. Regulus wouldn't trust himself either.

"You know about Horcruxes, I'm assuming," Regulus starts. Information is liberating. Regulus knows how people work; if Harry is going to trust him, he's going to have to spill the Dark Lord's secrets.

Which shouldn't really make his stomach twist up like this. The Dark Lord thinks he's _dead_. Dead, coincidentally, trying to take down the Dark Lord. He shouldn't be having second thoughts.

Harry narrows his eyes at Regulus, so he continues on. _Of course_ they know what Horcruxes are — they were at the cave.

"The locket at the cave isn't the real one."

Regulus lets that sit in for a second.

One thing must've stayed constant through his detour in the lake — Kreacher is still his. Kreacher should still have the locket. Or, better yet, he destroyed it already.

" _What_?" Harry says, fumbling in his pockets and bringing out a locket — it must be the locket Regulus put there. Regulus motions for it and Harry hesitates before tossing it to him. Regulus springs it open and draws out his note, tossing it too Harry, who catches it with Quidditch reflexes.

He knows that a note might not explain much, but it had been his only option at the time. The day he decided to even do it, he knew that he had to do it _then_ or the Dark Lord would grow even more powerful. A note was the quickest way to get his story out.

Regulus watches Harry's expression twist angrily as he reads the letter. Harry swings a fist, sinking it into a pillow in the chair next to Regulus.

"This locket is _fake_?" Harry says, his voice dripping with venom. "Dumbledore died for —" Harry breaks off, his voice cracking. He blinks and then looks back at Regulus after a moment. "Where's the real locket, then?"

"Kreacher should have it," Regulus answers. When he told Kreacher what they needed to do, he carefully chose his words so there would be no loopholes and the job would be completed. If he succeeded, Kreacher should still have it. He notes Harry's look of distaste at Kreacher's name, but ignores it. Kreacher was — _is_ — a loyal elf to Regulus. " _Kreacher!_ " Regulus calls. A second passes, and Regulus' stomach sinks. What if Kreacher doesn't come at his call?

"I think I have to call him," Harry says slowly. Regulus looks at him, and can see something shining in his eyes — tears.

"Why?" Regulus asks, narrowing his eyes at Harry. He feels a little like like a brat, but Kreacher is _his_.

"Sirius left him to me," Harry says. " _Kreacher!_ "

There's hardly any pause before a loud _crack!_ sounds and a house elf materialises in front of them. Kreacher takes a deep look at Harry, and then turns and sees Regulus and promptly bursts into tears, crumpling on the floor.

"Kreacher, stop," Harry orders him. With a deep breath, Kreacher pauses, looking up at Harry with wide eyes.

"Kreacher," Regulus says, feeling as though his mouth is full of sawdust.

"Master Regulus," Kreacher says, bowing low. "Master Potter," he adds, muttering something to the ground. Regulus knows that it's probably a stream of curses. He would tell him off, usually, but he has more pressing matters.

"Where's the locket, Kreacher?" Regulus asks softly. Kreacher looks back up at him with shiny eyes. He looks on the verge of more tears, but Harry's order holds him back.

"Gone," Kreacher croaks out. "It's gone."

"Gone?" Regulus asks. He's not sure he heard right; how could the locket be _gone_?

"Thrown away. Kreacher — Kreacher couldn't — Kreacher —" Kreacher cuts himself off and runs to the nearest chair, slamming his head into it.

Regulus is about to tell him to stop, but then Kreacher's words hit him — _really_ hit him — and the breath is gone from his throat.

The locket, gone? After what he went through to get it? _No_.

"Kreacher, stop," Harry orders, causing Kreacher to stiffen.

"What do you mean thrown away?" Regulus asks, finding his voice again. "When was it thrown away?" Regulus looks from Kreacher to Harry and his stomach sinks as regret creeps onto Harry's face. "What did you do?"

Giving Regulus a dark look, Harry takes a deep breath. "We cleared out Grimmauld Place. There was a locket that none of us could open and —"

Regulus blinks. Sure, he had no idea _how_ to destroy the locket, but at least he _had it_.

"You just made everything more complicated," he says, his mouth turning into a frown and Kreacher's sniffles filling his ears.

* * *

 _for:_

 _quidditch league [tornados, captain - write a character you've never written before]_

 _gge [may 2018 - emy]_

 _scavenger hunt [black family]_

 _paper airplanes [regret]_

 _writing club [char app - trio; showtime - the final battle; lyric alley - 10; emy's emporium - empress borte]_


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